


Bring Your Best

by tanyart



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, M/M, New Year's Eve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-02
Updated: 2014-01-02
Packaged: 2018-01-07 03:39:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1115031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tanyart/pseuds/tanyart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>24 hours without kissing and a still lot of kissing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bring Your Best

**Author's Note:**

> New Year's fic! Onwards to 2014!

“So, Eren.  What do you think about New Year kisses?”

Eren lowered the mug from his mouth.  It sounded like one of those seemingly non sequitur trick questions Jean was prone to asking whenever he was internally agonizing over something.  Eren had no idea where this was headed, but rather than trying to parse the real meaning behind Jean’s unsubtle phrasing, Eren thought he’d better match the question up with a blunt answer of his own. 

“Never thought much on it,” he said, watching as Jean’s expression shifted from slightly maniacal anxiety to affronted anger.  It was a good thing they weren’t dating each other for delicacy or tact.  “It just seems like one of those spontaneous moments, you know?”

There was a pause.  They stared at each other.

“Haha, yeah, right?  No one _plans_ a New Year’s kiss,” Jean said as if he had done exactly that.  He banged his own mug of hot chocolate on the table, tiny soggy marshmallows slopping over the rim.  “I mean, who does that nowadays?  Not even nowadays.  Neveradays.”

Eren was utterly endeared—but exasperated first by habit.  Still, he perked up.  “You planned something.  Something halfway awful but probably fun.”

Sensing his interest, Jean visibly relaxed his shoulders.  He stood up from his chair, making his way around Eren’s side of the kitchen table.  “Just need your consent before we do anything.”

Eren looked up at him with a sharp grin that stayed in place when Jean leaned over him.  “What, you need it in writing or something?”

“I’ll explain,” Jean said, and kissed him.

Only—if Eren had to put it in words—describing it as a kiss was like trying to compare a fiery explosion to striking the smallest matchstick.  Jean had one hand in Eren’s hair, the other steadying himself on Eren’s shoulder, and he was pushing closer like the physical space between them was unacceptable in every way.  Eren’s chair scooted back with a harsh scrape, tilting back on two legs until Eren’s breath hitched and he pressed forward in one smooth motion that Jean followed through by sinking down to his knees so it was now Eren who had to lean down.  Eren must have made a noise, a moan or a sigh, because Jean laughed, the timing of their breathing still somehow perfect, with teeth that clicked on occasion but still felt right. 

It had never been this slow, this aggressive all at once.  _Kiss_ did no justice at all.

Jean angled his head, mouth parted in a stupid dopey smile before it belatedly morphed into a smug grin.  It was one of the few times Eren struggled to become irritated at that self-satisfied expression.  He drew up, feeling heated and flushed and maybe even dizzy. 

“Woah.” Fuck, he was so into Jean, so incredibly into him.  His hands were still on either side of Jean’s face so he let them fall back down to Jean’s shoulders in what he hoped was a less smitten position, which he completely ruined anyway by repeating, “Wow.”

Jean turned red, but he seemed to have a plan and was stubbornly going through with it.

“That,” Jean said as the mobile phone in his back pocket buzzed midnight – the first hour of December 31st, “was our last kiss of the year.  Not a bad one, right?”

“Not at all,” Eren said, looking down at Jean’s mussed hair.  He frowned.  “Wait. Last kiss?”

Jean nodded, propping his arms on Eren’s knees and sitting back on his heels.  He dug into his pocket and took out his phone, waving the date and time in Eren’s face.  “Until the new year, if you agree to it.”

“It’s barely _just_ New Year’s Eve,” Eren said, eyes narrowing at Jean’s choice of background; an awful selfie picture of them trying to take up the most screen space.

“You see where this is going, right?”

 “Jean,” he said, pushing the phone away from his face. “If you think I can’t hold off kissing you for twenty-four hours, you’ve got another thing coming.”

Jean let out a bark of laughter.  “You said it yourself—you’ve never thought about New Year’s kisses.  Now I’m gonna make you think about it for whole day,” he said, edging closer into Eren’s lap.  He smirked and added in his poorly feigned offhanded way, “But, really.  It’s not about you or me holding off.”

Eren could feel Jean’s fingers toy with the seams of his sweatpants, warm even through the thick fabric.  He grinned.  An end of the year challenge was right up his alley.

 “Alright,” he said, grabbing Jean by the front of his shirt to haul him up.  He glanced at Jean’s lips, still wet at the corners.  The idea settled and there was no backing down now.  He opened mouth and leaned in but it was only to smile and say, “You have my consent, Jean.  No kissing for the next twenty-four hours.  For the entire New Year’s Eve.”

Jean’s gaze flickered up, back from where Eren had no doubt he had been staring at his lips in the same way.  There was no touching, but they were breathing in each other’s air.  Eren moved a fraction closer, daredevil taunt ready to throw right at Jean’s grinning face.

 “And I’m gonna make you _desperate_ for it.”

Jean’s grin grew wider.

* * *

 Eren didn’t stay the rest of the night at Jean’s apartment.  It was probably for the better, waking up later is his own bed and not accidentally rub his face against Jean.  The townhouse he shared with Mikasa, and Armin was already buzzing with activity.  New Year’s Eve was going to be busy, even more so than usual since it was their turn to host the New Year’s party.  

It might be too easy, Eren thought as he rolled out of bed and straightened out the blankets.  He thought back to last night –Jean shoving him out of the apartment before either of them could lean in for the instinctive kiss good night—and snorted.

He saw Armin in the hallway, balancing precariously on a wobbly stepladder.  Eren steadied it and looked up.  “Taking down the mistletoe?”

Armin unpinned the dried sprig, berries still bright red against his palm.  He tapped two fingers against Eren’s forehead in lieu of a kiss.  Even Armin had to uphold mistletoe rules.  “Sorry, Eren.  I know how much you and Jean had fun with them, but I don’t think our doorframe can take you two trying to race each other to the door anymore.”

“No, it actually works out for us,” Eren said, wincing at the memory of having crashed straight into a wall a week ago in a failed attempt to catch Jean under the doorframe.  Aggressively hunting down mistletoe together had been another holiday challenge which thankfully ended after Christmas.  

“How so?” Armin asked, wary.  He jumped from the stepladder.  “What are you two up to?”

“Nothing _violent_ ,” Eren assured, which made Armin look more doubtful.  “We’ve implemented a no-kiss rule up until New Year’s.”

“That’s fifteen hours from now.”

Eren was offended.  “You think we won’t make it?”

Armin laughed and laughed, and rehung the damn mistletoe.

* * *

 Jean stopped by the townhouse hours before the start of the party with a plate of store bought vegetables and dip.  There was nothing impressive about it so Eren felt no guilt nudging Jean out of the way from the kitchen entrance.

“Mistletoe,” he warned, dodging around Jean.  “Armin thought the no-kiss thing was too easy without third party interference, so watch what you’re standing under.”

Jean glanced up with a sigh.  “I was hoping that would be my loophole.”

“Trying to cheat already?”

“No, but the thought occurred more than once,” Jean admitted, handing off the vegetable tray.  He didn’t seem all that disappointed though and went to take off his coat and drape it over a kitchen chair. 

It was funny how forced intimacy avoidance worked.  Eren was pretty sure he had spent more than a couple of days without Jean’s company before, and there were _definitely_ days where they hadn’t kissed, mostly because there just hadn’t been an obligation to. 

They would have kissed at the front door, and again when Eren had disdainfully regarded Jean’s party plate.  Eren gnawed at the inside of his cheek.  Take something away, and you tend to think about it more often. 

“Uh, anything I can do to help?” Jean asked.

Eren turned, not surprised to find Jean at his shoulder, peering at the various dishes on the counter.  That was nothing new, the press of Jean’s arm against his back.  They had always been shit at keeping personal bubbles.

Stiffening, Eren slapped the back of his neck, clipping Jean right on the nose.  “Don’t you _dare_.”

“Ow! What the hell?” Jean jerked back, holding his nose.  “You almost took my eye out!”

“You were breathing down my neck!  You were going to kiss me!”

“I stopped myself!  And then you _slap_ me.”

“Here I was worrying about _my_ self-control,” Eren fumed, clapping both hands over Jean’s cheeks and squeezing.  He glared.  What a ridiculous face.  He wouldn’t want to kiss that at all.

Jean shook.  Eren’s hands squishing his face together probably made it hard to read his expression, but Eren could already hear Jean snickering.

“Oh my god, you’re breaking too,” he garbled while Eren mashed his palms against his face again.  “It’s barely noon.”

“Ugh,” Eren said, letting go.  He didn’t throw himself into dares and challenges halfheartedly, especially if Jean was the one who issued them.  “Why do you sound so happy about it?  Don’t you want to win this thing?”

“I do, I do,” Jean said, rubbing his face, but shot him a smile so disarming and happy that for the first time Eren felt _really_ in trouble.  “Haha, ‘ _win this thing’_?  Seriously, Eren?”

Lucky for him, there was still a party to get ready for.  Mikasa’s sticky note on the fridge was pretty vital.

Eren ignored Jean’s smirk.  “I need you to go buy more plastic cups.”

“Sure,” Jean said.  He raised an eyebrow.  “You wanna come with?”

It never even occurred to Eren to back down for that either.

* * *

The grocery store was crowded with people in similar last-minute party situations.  Eren thought he and Jean would have made it back home safe otherwise, but patience had never been their strong suite and the queue for the cashier was moving at a snail’s pace.

“Do we really need the cups?” Jean hissed in Eren’s ear, his breath warm and _too_ close.

They wouldn’t make out in a grocery store, would they?  There were children next to them.  Eren vengefully retaliated by leaning against Jean.  “Can’t have the guests drinking out of bowls, right?”

Jean stared at him with a distant look.  Eren frowned, waved his free hand in front of his face, and groaned.

“Fuck, Jean.  Drinking out of a bowl isn’t even _sexy_.”

Jean jerked back, startled.  “What? No. I wasn’t imagining that.  Not, like, in the gross way you’re thinking.”

“Don’t tell me.  I don’t want to know.” Eren sighed, gauging the distance between them and the cash register.  To hell with it.  He shifted the bundle of cups under his arm and took Jean’s hand.

It was technically more oversized sleeve than hand.  Eren wormed his fingers higher.

“Ooh, _very_ daring move,” Jean whispered, gripping tight. 

Eren snorted.  “Only a few more hours.”

“There’s nine.  Three of which we’ll probably spend in this line doing nothing except stew in our combined sexual tension.”

“Woah, is it really that bad for you?”

“It’s all this waiting and standing around, got nothing to do,” Jean said, thumb moving in circles over Eren’s palm.  “I just keep thinking back to last night.  I did really good, huh?  You in that chair, looking at me with your hair all messed up and-“

Eren slapped his hand over Jean’s mouth and drew it back instantly when he felt Jean’s lips move against his skin to continue his commentary, muffed but still defiant.  It didn’t count, that brief touch, but it had left Eren’s palm tingling.

And apparently he wasn’t the only one who thought so too.  Jean kept looking at Eren’s mouth as if it was suddenly the most fascinating thing in the midst of metal shopping carts crashing, children squealing, and cash register beeps.

“I’ll go wait in the car,” he said, averting his gaze and sounding peeved.

“Yeah, you go do that.”

* * *

The party was in full swing with everyone settling into the townhouse and taking their places by the kitchen or living room or in one of the other rooms.  A full house—Eren could distantly hear Ymir’s karaoke yells and Reiner’s whoops of encouragement, Sasha raiding the entire kitchen and Mikasa demonstrating the crowd-pleasing act of taking a saber to open more champagne bottles.

And things had been going so well until the champagne.

Or, well, Eren would have _liked_ to blame it on the champagne but he only had a sip and that was giving the cheap bottle way too much credit.  And why blame the champagne when he could blame Jean and his stupid jokes and stupid way of carrying on a fake argument and goading Eren into laughing along with him and making him feel warm all over like he’d gone and drunk the bottle anyway.

He had thought letting Annie take a cat nap in his room would have been a good enough precaution, but no.  Eren dragged Jean into the linen closet, because when there wasn’t a free room he could always count on a closet.

“I think we can do it,” Eren panted, rubbing against Jean’s hips.  He licked his lips, watching as Jean shifted his head by just a hair, almost like he wanted to lean in but stopped at the last second.  Who knew trying to not kiss a person could look so hot?

“I don’t want our last fuck of the year to be some quickie in a closet where we didn’t kiss,” Jean said, bristling, but he hadn’t moved his hand from underneath Eren’s shirt.  “When was the last time we even had sex?”

Eren dropped his forehead on Jean’s shoulder, thinking.  Huh.  Maybe their uncontrolled frustration did make sense after all.

“… Two days ago? No, three,” he said, lifting his head up with a snort.  “Yeah, definitely three days ago, your place. I remember ‘cause you came _really_ early-“

Jean started against him and hissed, “So did you when we tried again!”

“Okay, but you know how hard it is to sync back after one of us gets off,” Eren said, attempting to be reasonable and failing miserably at it. 

They were both very embarrassed.  And very turned on.

“You know what, a quickie in a closet without kissing is nothing to be ashamed of,” Jean decided, hooking a leg around the back of Eren’s knee.

“I’m sure we can make it New Year’s Eve worthy,” Eren said, and let Jean yank down his pants.

* * *

Jean refused to get up from the floor, but this time Eren couldn’t blame him.  In fact, Eren sank down next to him, numb and almost wanting to join Jean in his shamed fetal position.

 “God, we fucked up. We fucked up so bad,” Jean moaned into his hands.

It was probably obvious to some degree that kissing tended to muffle things out.  Without it, everything tended to be a little louder – moaning, begging, whimpering—and the absolutely _dirty_ talk Eren hadn’t known Jean was capable of doing.  There was something about holding back that probably did them in too.

“It was a good two minutes,” Eren said, pushing a wayward coat aside.

“I can’t believe our last fuck of the year was literally the quickest ever _in_ a closet _and_ with no kissing,” Jean said.

“Well, when you put it like _that_ …” Eren trailed off.  He shook his head, knowing that he would have to take the more optimistic route since Jean rarely did.  “Want a do over?”

“And risk something even more humiliating? At this rate one of us won’t get off at all, and it will probably be me.  The shame is already too great.”

There was no helping it then.  Eren nudged Jean back into a sitting position, stepping on a dozen coat hangers as he stood up.  He held out his hand, letting out a breathless laugh.  “It was a great two minutes and you know it.  Come on.  Get your pants back on.  We’ve got three hours left.”

He could hear Jean mutter something, one of his _meant-to-be-inside-head_ thoughts. 

“I’m going to kiss you so, _so_ good at midnight.”

Eren grinned.  “I know you will.”

* * *

The countdown was still ringing in his ears when Eren turned towards Jean.  He could hear the fireworks outside, the cheers from all his friends and family around him, and somewhere behind him Ymir and Historia were already making out on the couch.

Jean was still yelling his _Happy New Years_ to everyone, too caught up in the moment but not enough to let go of Eren’s hand as Eren yelled along with him. 

It seemed more like an accident when they finally caught each other’s eye and Jean pressed his dry lips to Eren’s mouth, and Eren could describe it in exact words; unhurried, easy and unafraid.

Twenty-four hours for that kiss, and it was the best start for more.


End file.
